


Damnatio Memoriae

by PubLicEneMyNumBah1



Category: Rise of Immortals/Battle for Graxia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle, Elder God, Expanded Backstory, Fallen Angels, Guardian Angels, Immortals, Minor Violence, Novella, Oriental Fantasy, Pre-Canon, Revenge, sword and sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PubLicEneMyNumBah1/pseuds/PubLicEneMyNumBah1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a FanFic in progress I'm writing for a game called Rise of Immortals by Petroglyph (now renamed as Battle for Graxia and is currently in Open Beta) and I've also posted this on the game's official forum, where the thread for this story contains the Author's Notes and other things.</p><p>This fanfic's thread in the game's official forum: http://www.battleforgraxia.com/forums/index.php?/topic/472-roi-bfg-fanfic-damnatio-memoriae/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the Mighty Have Fallen

“Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell."  
― William Shakespeare, _Macbeth_  


The lush forest was silent apart from the monotonous gushing of the rain. Bamboo stalks flailed to and fro but remained unyielding to the gusts of wind brought upon by the weather. Leaves fell in a whirl on the ground while frogs croaked while they sat on the loamy forest floor.  
  
Nature’s sweet music was interrupted violently as metallic blades cut through wood and grass, dirt and rocks spreading out as vicious dancers come to stomp out the ground with a destructive tempo. As thunders roared, the sweet sonata came to an unsettling crescendo.  
  
Flashes of lightning illuminated two figures locked in combat. The first one, a shapely woman with a rosy white skin, short brunette hair arranged into a bun, and narrow brown eyes reddened as irritated by the rain. She was wearing a white embroidered vest over a scarlet-pink longcoat extending to form a skirt-like appearance, attached to it are tightly-fitting fingerless gloves. Her lower apparel consisted of knee-high socks and wooden sandals. A giant ribbon with an aliform brooch also was also hugging her waist from the front. On her hand’s grasp was a sword with whip-like flexibility, which she twisted and turned with ease. Opposing her was a dark male figure. His drenched shoulder-length jet-black hair covered most of his face, concealing most of its features but his mouth and teeth are bare, his lips curved into a cruel smile. His attire consisted of a cuirass over a tunic and black-and-fiery leggings with a segmented sash. Perhaps his most unusual accessories, on his left arm was a metallic gauntlet and attached to his armor’s back was a banner cut lengthwise reaching the ground level. His ash grey scythe, even taller than himself, made him even more foreboding.  
  
With a flick of her wrist, the woman made her metal whip stretch and twist towards her opponent. However, the man effortlessly spun his scythe and deflected the incoming attack.  
  
“You are several eons too young to face me,” the man quipped as he leaped after the lady’s unsuccessful onslaught.  
  
“And you are a few split seconds too early to talk,” she replied as she maneuvered the whip sword into pursuit. The weapon bent into ways metal isn’t meant to bend into before, snaking through soil and thicket as it sought its target.  
  
“Tch,” he muttered as he narrowly evaded the incoming blade. Each dodge did little to avoid it, as it changed direction just as quickly as him. Even with his weighty costume and weapon, he was surprisingly nimble. Nevertheless, the chase didn’t exhaust him. Bamboo stalks were thrown in every direction as the sword cut indiscriminately. Using it to his advantage, the man occasionally flung cut stalks towards the lady as he spun his scythe to defend himself from the sharp spikes.  
  
“Who sent you to kill me?” The woman sternly asked without taking her eyes off her blade and its target, intent on getting her desired response.  
  
“Sent? I followed you with my own volition.” He spat as if in revolt to the remark. “So sad that you think so lowly of me; I’m not like you.” He slowed down then stopped dodging and with his metallic gauntlet, gestured to her to attack as she pleases.  
  
Confused, she took the taunt at face and speared her sword towards him but she still kept her distance and extended it just the same. Never had she seen such a confident opponent and he might just as well have a few tricks up his sleeves, perhaps a counterattack or a distraction. She was undecided on her method of execution. Should she wrap her sword around his neck then tug on it until his head comes off spinning like a top into a shower of blood? Should she shove it down his throat, impale him through his guts, and string him like some animal? Or should he be cut in half along his waist? Her sword was plunging too fast for her to make a choice at that instant and it simply found its way into the middle of his chest, having penetrated his cuirass, with the man surprisingly offering no resistance at all.  
  
The man slowly fell on his knees, convulsing and seemingly desperate to pull the lodged blade. She smiled triumphantly and brushed her hair towards the side. “Any second now,” She thought as she waited for the squirming worm to breathe its last. Even as the man lies dying, all she felt was contempt for the person she just battled a while ago. “This should not be so,” Something within her mind protested against her other thoughts. “Must… resist… gloating…” A lingering emotion began to bother her. She felt that each kill starts to hold more personal weight, almost with pleasure. Is she doing what she has to do or is this becoming a preference? For a moment, she thought that it’s all over; until the man calmed down, stood up, and, without any sign of suffering, drew the blade out of his chest.  
  
He grinned wryly and the lady can only look, gaze filled with shock, as he threw the blade aside. She was expecting blood but all she saw was a gaping hole with an oozing purple gas where the blade stabbed deep.  
  
“W-What are you? By the Goddess, what are you?!” The lady asked, taken aback by what she saw.  
  
“I thought you’ve figured out by now.” The man placed his metallic gauntlet over the hole and it began to pulsate with a purple aura. A luminescent wave started radiating from the man’s body, suddenly covering a large area around him, just a foot or two before it reached the lady. It formed a dome of swirling energy and as it expanded, it pushed the lady farther away until it stopped and retracted to its source.  
  
When the blinding light is gone, the area engulfed by it drastically changed. The grass and trees looked like it was scorched heavily and corpses and skeletons of animals littered the ground. Death befell the forest unthinkably swiftly. Left in the middle of this landscape of death and decay is the man, but the hole in his chest has inexplicably vanished (though inferring that that light and sudden massacre may have something to do with it is a good guess) but with the damage on his cuirass still present. At this point, the rain has subsided into a slow trickle and his facial features are now more evident as he tossed his hair back. He has a very pallid skin, his nose was thin and moderately sharp, and his eyes were deep with dark brows slanted on top of each.  
  
“Just a quick meal,” The man commented casually on his deed. ”Now where were we… ah, yes, I was about to introduce myself. For the sake of simplicity, I am a god.”  
  
The lady grimaced. She firmly held her sword with both hands as she stabbed the ground for balance while she gets up. She would have called blasphemy for such a claim but for the first time, it felt like there’s a grain of truth to it. “A close second perhaps,” she thought in denial, “but not a god.”  
  
“A god, did I hear that right?” She asked mockingly. “Wait, let me just get my joss sticks. Tell me where I should shove them in.”  
  
“After I’m done with you, I’ll make sure you’ll have a lot of praying to do.” With a swift stroke of his scythe, the man vaulted into midair towards the lady.  
  
The lady responded by extending her sword to launch herself into the air and pulling it from the ground to block the attack. The man pushed her back with his scythe but she has gained foothold by stepping on a bamboo stalk, bending over due to their weight. The lady leaned back a little more and kicked the man on his spine. He almost fell to the ground but by firing a purple beam into it, he was able to push himself back up towards her.  
  
“That was a cheap shot.” He said as he retaliated by hitting her with his scythe, its tang finding its way into her left cheek. Fortunately for her, she swung her blade just in time to displace its sharp chine. She was nonetheless thrown into the branch of a large tree, hitting her back, and falling to the muddy soil audibly.  
  
“Stay down.” The man commanded. She looked at him with piercing eyes. The once rosy cheeks have discolored; the right one pale and the other one bruised black and blue from his last hit, it swelled too much that her eyes have squinted. He felt the fury from the woman as she grasped her sword, weak and shaking but trying to muster her remaining strength. “I might have played a little too much with her.” He thought. They stared each other down for a few minutes until the man slowly walked towards her. Seeing the man advance, the lady sprang back to her knees pointing her sword towards him.  
  
“I’m not done yet.”  
  
The man tried to gauge the lady’s bravery. Or is it merely mortal foolishness? He isn’t sure himself.  
  
“I’ll let you live… for now. Quite impressive feat for such a fragile creature, I should say. Become stronger and when that time comes, I’ll come find you and face you like an equal. Until then, you should reminisce of this nightmare, spending your nights unable to sleep, troubled and afraid.” With these words, the man turned his back and walked off. He looked back and told her, “Lazarus, remember that name.” He finally disappeared into the darkness as he turned away.  
  
Shortly after, the lady fell to the ground panting. She then heard people shouting her name. “They’re here,” she thought as she leaned back on a shrine in the middle of the forest.

Morning came, the posse found her and one of them immediately rushed to her side. “Lady Nauria, wake up! Please wake up!”  
  
Nauria opened her eyes slowly, the view was blurred at first but it slowly cleared up. She noticed that the sun has already risen, with the ground now partly dried up after the rain dampened it last night. It all felt like a dream but she knew it was true as she touched the lump on her left cheek. “Lazarus,” the name echoed on her mind at that moment and silently, she swore that they’ll meet again.  
  
"Let’s go home.” She instructed as she limply walked with their assistance.


	2. The Girl Who Knew Little

"He who knows not and knows not he knows not, He is a fool- Shun him.  
He who knows not and knows he knows not, He is simple- Teach him.  
He who knows and knows not he knows, He is asleep- Awaken him.  
He who knows and knows that he knows, He is wise- Follow him."  
― Bruce Lee

 

“Amazing~,” Kyrie squeed as she finished another chapter of her favorite book, “Tales of Nauria Sierratorre”. Her eyes were as if lit aglow with joy from what she had read, her eyebrows lowering and cheeks rising high into a playful smile. Her imagination is adrift with how she envisions Lazarus and Nauria’s duel, with herself into the latter’s role. She stood up and mimed the scene, grabbing her calligraphy brush from her desk and holding it like a sword. She slashed and twirled it, making whooshing sounds as she pranced around the room. She was ecstatic with her reverie, exhausting herself until she tumbles down on the cotton-laden straw mat.  
  
As she laid down, she raised her brush up… and realized that it had been dipped in ink. With a startle, she sat up cross-legged and looked at the mess she made in the room. The floor, the ceiling, the walls, the sliding door, and the furniture… all of it were stained by ink blots. She nervously looked behind at her desk and was relieved that somehow her books and miscellaneous school equipment were spared.  
  
“Safe,” she said after letting out a deep sigh. She stood up and inspected the small black streaks on the wall. She carefully scratched some of the blots and observed that they are still fresh and can be easily removed. She amusingly remarked that they formed glyphic patterns accidentally. Though a fond thought, she immediately slapped her cheeks lightly to not let her mind wander again. “I should start cleaning this,” she said with conviction as she started looking for a rag to scrub it with.  
  
She looked up on the tall wardrobe and recalled that she has some old rags kept atop it. She held her arms upwards but she was unable to reach it, requiring her to grab and drag a nearby chair for her to stand up on.  
  
“Found it!” She exclaimed as she found two, “Time to tidy things up before…”  
  
The door suddenly slid open and a tall young man entered, “Kyrie, it’s time to — _Gyo!_  What happened to your room?!”  
  
Kyrie fumbled and slipped from the chair as she was caught by surprise. However, her brother Shinjou seems to be more shocked than she is; not that Kyrie hasn’t caused mischief before but this instance of her folly is worse than previous ones. He looked around the room slowly as he assessed the damage that his little sister has done. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment.  
  
He looked back at Kyrie, who sat with each of her foot rested on the opposite thigh after falling from the chair, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands covering her mouth. “Please don’t tell mother and father. I’m really sorry and I’ll try to be more careful next time. Oh please, please, please~.”  
  
“Oh, you scatterbrained lass you,” Shinjou replied, looking more exasperated. “Get a bucket and fill it with water. Get the soap, too.” He instructed. “Let’s do this before the ink dries up.”

oOo

“Honestly, Ky, how did you not even notice what was happening?” Shinjou asked while scrubbing off the ink from a vase. The ink dried up before they can start cleaning, making the chore less easy than it was supposed to be.  
  
“Dunno.” Kyrie replied as she shrugged her shoulders, blinking, and sticking her tongue out. She returned to scrubbing the wall after she responded.  
  
Shinjou wasn’t really expecting a proper answer, “Please grow up. You’re fifteen and in just a week you’re turning sixteen, too. You should be more prim and proper by now.”  
  
“How? And why?”  
  
“You know, more lady-like?”  
  
Kyrie just scoffed at the notion and resumed her cleaning. “What does a lady should be really like?” She thought to herself aloud. “There’s no such thing as lady-like and unlady-like. They’re just assumptions based on stereotypes. I'm just as much of a lady as mother or some other girls in our neighborhood.”  
  
Shinjou was shocked from hearing such mature words from his sister and was dumbfounded for a moment. It seems that Kyrie may not have even noticed the clever implication but Shinjou took it as a good sign. He nevertheless continued to make his point, “Lady-like or not lady-like, the point is that you’re still too childish.”  
  
He looked at Kyrie’s desk and slowly walked towards it after he finished cleaning the vase. He placed the vase back at the desk and as he noticed the bottle of ink, he lifted it up and looked at it. He stared at it meaningfully, his forehead wrinkling just from examining it.  
  
“Kyrie, where did you get this bottle from?” Shinjou said calmly as he diverted his attention from the bottle to his sister.  
  
“You gave me that.” She replied as she now took the same chair she used a while ago to clean up the higher parts of the wall that she can’t reach.  
  
“Huh? When?!”  
  
“I think you were drawing something when I asked that from you. You were too busy to pay attention.”

“Seriously?”  
  
“Yeah. So I guess Big-Bro-ther has a blind spot, too~” Kyrie teased but Shinjou just ignored her that moment. He was absorbedly looking at the bottle of ink. Kyrie noticed and called him out, “Big bro-jou, you’re spacing out!”  
  
Shinjou regained his focus. “You’re for one to talk.” He walked away from the desk and opened the sliding door. “I’m taking this back. I’ll give you a different bottle of ink later.”  
  
“But I like that. Why are you taking it back anyway?”  
  
“Just… I like this ink, too… I think. Whatever. I’ve cooked breakfast; come down after you’re done with that.” He went out of the room and left Kyrie to herself as she cleans the last streaks from the wall. “Ma and pa went early to the rice fields.”  
  
Kyrie frowned from having the bottle of ink taken and she scrubbed harder in annoyance. She liked that ink. She knows how capricious Shinjou is and she should have been used to that but it all felt like nothing ever changed, she’s still caught by his surprises.  
  
She came down to the dining room and washed her hands. She saw that Shinjou is already eating candied nuts for dessert. “You didn’t even wait for me.”

“Sorry. I have some things to attend to.” He said after crunching on a handful of nuts and grabbing his satchel, preparing to go out of their house. “Lock the doors when you’re going to leave.”

She sat next to the table and took notice at what Shinjou has cooked. The rice from yesterday’s dinner has been fried but it has gone cold again because of the time they took to clean the room. She grabbed the bowl and took a look at the bamboo shoot soup with fish and coconut milk. It was freshly cooked and still steaming. She scooped some rice from the casserole dish unto her plate and poured some of the soup and bamboo shoot slices. She said her graces for her ancestors and the gods before eating her meals. She took a taste and praised Shinjou, “Big bro’s cooking is delicious!”  
  
She washed the utensils after finishing her breakfast then took her bag of school equipment to leave home for the academy. Before leaving, she took a piece of paper and wrote on it:

  
  
 _Dear Ma and Pa,_  
  
 _I’ll be back next week, just in time for my birthday. I wouldn’t be asking for any gift because you and Shinjou are the greatest gifts I’ve received… ever! I just hope that we'll all be together to celebrate._  

 

_Love lots,_   
_Kyrie_

 

She folded the message and left it on the dining table with a glass as paperweight. After checking that every door has been locked, she left and began her trek down the mountain.


	3. Cult of the Celestial Crystal

"A soft touch and a crystal voice may inspire more men than all the banners under Heaven."  
— Dragon Clan Geisha, _Battle Realms_  


"All hail the Maestreya! All hail the Maestreya! The Maestreya is the beginning! The Maestreya is the end! The Maestreya is all!"  
  
The congregation's chanting resonated into the entire poorly lit main hall and the temple's courtyard. Inside the hall are the most privileged leaders of the flock, who are honored to set their eyes upon the Maestreya himself. The ones outside are left satisfied to only hear his voice; their faith being the only tool that proves the Maestreya's divinity.  
  
The Maestreya, as the cult claims, has long existed in Zanzinukov even during the earliest dynasties, even when their world was still plunged in wars among the emperors of smaller empires. It is said that he is immortal, being able to transfer his consciousness from one body to another when the previous one can no longer contain him as it deteriorates from the use of his powers. It has become one of their basic tenets ever since to aid the Maestreya into finding his most suitable host, to use his powers' true potentials to conquer the world and "uplift" its beings. It's all part of his divine plan to make the world and its creatures more worthy; all those who will dare to stop him shall be swept away.  
  
The Cult of the Celestial Crystal has been around for a few thousand years based on historical records and is believed to be a secret society supposedly interfering with political affairs over that span of time. Once believed to have ceased to exist, the Maestreya and the cult apparently only relegated into the shadows by their own choice but recent news of the resumption of their activities has quickly spread. Within a week, major cities of the nations of Irrisco and Kihzur have been plundered and left in ruins by cloaked figures armed with crystalline weapons. The attacks were fended off before they could advance further but only after casualties reached thousands, mostly civilians, and while the defenders were able to retaliate, the cultists were barely harmed. Cultists which weren't killed but attempted to be taken as prisoners quickly petrified into crystals, crumbled, and became useless altogether to their captors.  
  
Aside from the uproar that they're causing on the outside world, something is also stirring up within the organization itself. A new message was disseminated to the followers through the leaders; the Maestreya, after millennia of secrecy, has now decided to show himself to the entire cult. To bring legitimacy to his claim is one agendum but more importantly, to shine hope upon the believers and to shatter the skeptics. For the cult, there is no greater news than this.  
  
The hall's great door swung open and the leaders came out in a procession. Priests and priestesses in all their sacred garbs were lined up according to their hierarchy. Frantic muttering began when they saw the Five Obelisks of the Cult at its last order of precedence as four of them carries an oddly-shaped palanquin, its litter is bulbous and has a pointed top, on its four poles while Venerable Diabound, the Right Hand of the Maestreya, sits in a lotus position on top of it with surprising balance. As soon as they saw the five great leaders, the cultists knelt on their right knees, with their right arm pointing downwards and palms open. The palm of their left hand is also placed over their elbow pit and their heads were bowed low.  
  
Inquiries filled their mind as to what would happen next. The Maestreya will be showing himself finally but to lay their eyes upon a god, there must be some danger to it, would there not? The fear of being undeserving of his glory crept into every one of them. What if they're too weak and his overwhelming presence snuffs them out? Would they go insane from the revelation?  
  
Venerable Diabound leaped to the front of the palanquin and the other Obelisks placed it down in front of the masses. Diabound faced the congregation and proclaimed some words of inspiration.  
  
"Do not be afraid, blessed children of the Maestreya. We shall hide in the shadows of civilization no more. As we have been denied of our rightful place, we shall now force the hands of destiny to give it to us."  
  
"HAA!" The cultists shouted in affirmation as Diabound raised his right fist, almost similar to a punching motion towards the heavens. It has been customary to shout out their agreement every time a great leader raises his arm in a speech.  
  
"Oh, powerful Maestreya! May you rid the world of the impure beings that plague this land. The infallible behest of the Heavens is one with you!"  
  
"HAA!"  
  
"Faithful worshipers, offer your prayers! Let the Maestreya know your will to serve him! For millennia, the impure have defiled and broken our lands but no more! In days to come, it is we who shall live to witness the bright future. Oh, Celestial Crystal! Hear our prayers and let us be instruments in purifying this world."  
  
"HAA!"  
  
"Let us offer Zanzinukov the greatest blessing in the name of our Maestreya!"  
  
"HAA!"  
  
The palanquin's litter started to effloresce, with crevices appearing and glowing with green light. Diabound faced away from the congregation and knelt similarly with the other cultists to the palanquin as it unfolds. The other four obelisks knelt as well, surrounding it in five directions.  
  
With a final bright burst, the palanquin has transformed into a floral shape. It is encrusted with crystals of different colors and in the middle is a single large crystal spike, analogous to a flower's stamen. Only the five obelisks know what is happening and everyone else feels a mixture of dread and excitement. As the crystal spike started cracking, they braced themselves for what would happen next.  
  
 _Ka-shh!_  
  
The crystal spike started to break. In a snap, the crystal shattered into small pieces, revealing... an infant. The Maestreya has chosen an infant as his new host!  
  
"Blessed is the babe chosen to be the Maestreya's new vessel!" The cultists thought as they saw the Maestreya's new body. They believe that there is no greater gift to the young one than this. "Blessed are the parents whose child was sacrificed for his divine plan." Several others also thought. "Blessed is this newborn whose soul was taken for the Maestreya to take refuge in his young shell. To be slain at an early age means to be incapable of doing wrong against him and even in death, his body serves a holy purpose."  
  
"My people, behold my form that I let your eyes lay upon. Lift your heads unto me." The baby's lips were not moving at all, implying that he is communicating with them psychically.  
  
The cultists looked up to their master, whose infant shell is now afloat with some crystals forming a spherical cradle-like appearance around him. He is cocooned in linen clothes, revealing only his vessel's innocent face enhanced by his glowing green eyes resembling the crystals. With his tiny hands, he brought out an object resembling the cult's emblem and raised it up. It was initially green but its glow turned orange.

Rise up and receive my gift!" Crystal splinters rained forth from it towards the cultists. They quickly rose and each one brought their own palms together, as if taking alms. A single orange shard fell into the palms of each cultist. A new kind of weapon perhaps, they thought, but this seems to be too small. Yet they know that they must not doubt the Maestreya's intentions.  
  
"Stab thy selves with it. This is the new power that I shall grant unto you. Behold, the Seed Crystals! Only the worthy will survive and the rest will perish."  
  
They did as instructed. As soon as they stabbed the small crystal into their flesh, it kept going inside them. Screams filled the air as the foreign object stirred a painful sensation inside their bodies; the seed crystal was as if expanding from within. Its effects became more visible as the cultists' body started to cleave and from the cracks, rays of orange light came out. Their bodies started shaking and crystal spikes shoot out randomly. They're also bleeding orange fluid and the temple started to look like a gigantic pool of marmalade, if one would take a very light and inappropriate comparison of the matter. Indifferently, the five obelisks just looked on as they let the ritual take its course.

  
 _Crash! Crash!_  
  
Crystallized cultist body parts started chipping off as some of them reached their limits. Some cultists' bodies were broken asunder by the Maestreya's eldritch energy, exploding in a violent crunch that showered unto their comrades. These pieces clung into the surviving ones and were absorbed by their bodies, making them stronger but making the struggle more difficult as it increases the strain. These continued for several minutes until everyone who survived regained their composures, alive but with new bodies barely resembling their old forms. Feeling pain no more, they knelt again.  
  
The Maestreya floated towards one of the newly reborn worshipers and touched its face. "Pretty." He floated back to his previous place and said, "Spread the word."  
  
"All hail the Maestreya! All hail the Maestreya! The Maestreya is the beginning! The Maestreya is the end! The Maestreya is all!"  
  
With one last praise to the Maestreya, the crystalline monsters frenziedly left the temple with a newfound urge to do the Maestreya's bidding.


	4. The Start of the Journey

“The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination.”

― Don Williams, Jr

 

It’s been a week after Kyrie went to the academy and she is now on her way home. She is aboard a public transport, an oxcart, and she is reading the same book which she had read before she left. However, her pace was tarried because of her school works and she hasn’t made a lot of progress within those days. She is now on the chapter which tells about Nauria’s return to Shangritopia, the city in the Heavens.

oOo

“Perfect Virtue,” Nauria whispered the words under her breath as she began meditating under a waterfall, blocking all her senses to concentrate on her purification. She is poised into a full-lotus sitting position and in her hands is her sword Misery. She has a lot to cleanse. Within the last few weeks, she has fought thousands and killed hundreds to accomplish her missions. She has been exposed to violence for too long without a purifying ritual and if not for the injuries she sustained from Lazarus, she would have insisted that she’s still relatively pure. While a favorite of the oracles for her fervor in carrying out the divine command, her fanatical devotion troubles her companions.  
  
Though she refuses to admit it, Nauria herself knows that Lazarus is too much for her. She felt the extraordinary malevolence that he exudes and even as she tries to clear her thoughts off it, it still bothers her. It wasn’t unusual for her to enter a temporary bloodlust while in a battle but for some reason, fighting Lazarus made it linger a bit more.  
  
“Perfect Virtue,” she said the words in her mind again. She must avoid thinking of Lazarus; otherwise, the purifying ritual will not be completed. Nevertheless, her attempts to empty her mind are futile as scenes from their battle flashed back. Her defeat at his hands imprinted on her. This angered her greatly and she obliviously grasped Misery tighter, making her hand bleed.  
  
Thinking of Lazarus made her concentration fall apart, allowing the cold water and strong current to overwhelm her senses. The pain from grasping her sword too tightly also started surging in with the rest of the other disturbances. She tumbled down and was washed away to a nearby rock.

oOo

“Young lady, are you not going to get off the cart yet?”  
  
The query interrupted Kyrie’s immersion on her book. She looked around and noticed that every other passenger has left. She’s now on the last stop before she has to go up the mountain all by herself. She looked at the driver, who only smiled back at her as she frenetically searches for coins in her pocket. The driver noticed the book on her hands.  
  
“Do you like reading that book?” The driver asked, pointing to the book as Kyrie pays the passenger fee.  
  
“Yes, mister. It’s about the legend of Nauria Sierratorre. She’s an astonishing warrior.” She said as she leaves and walks away.  
  
The driver nodded and replied, ”Is that so? Still, you must be wary of who you place in high regard. People are not always what they seem.”  
  
The last remark befuddled Kyrie for a moment. There’s a lot of ways to interpret that one but most logically, she thought, maybe he has already read the story and it might be related to a plot twist. As she turns to ask the man for clarifications, there’s no one there anymore. A cold wind blown at that instance and she felt a shiver went through her spine, giving her goosebumps.  
  
Startled, she ran up the mountain to her way home thinking that she has been bewitched.

oOo

“If this is a horror story, that was just pretty clichéd.” Kyrie noted the absurdity of the oxcart suddenly vanishing as she leaned back on a tree. It’s been minutes since she started running and she’s pretty exhausted by now but there’s no time for her to take a rest. She tucked her book back to her sling bag and she continued walking towards her village but she started smelling something burning. As she looked up, she saw smoke rising up to the night sky. Her eyes widened at the ominous enormity of the gathering gas, making her fear the worst.  
  
Instinctively, she started running again. “Ma! Pa! Shinjou!” She jumped into conclusion but there was no other way for her to interpret what’s happening. As she climbs up the earthen stairs to her village, she saw the spreading flame that made the entire village and the terraces look vermilion, with houses and rice paddies burning.

She started hearing screams. She hid behind a tree and peaked as she tried to know what’s happening. To her horror, she saw creatures that look vaguely human. Some are about the size of a human being and others are towering ten feet tall armored warriors. Yet, she noticed that all of these monsters have protruding crystalline appendages from their bodies. Despite their appallingly deformed and unbalanced physique, they are fairly strong as proven by some of them smashing brick houses with their fists alone.  
  
She saw the panicking townspeople; some of them are trying to run away while some are fighting back with muskets and farming tools. The monsters’ tough bodies deflect the bullets however and the tools bent. The enemies pressed on while some of the defending villagers, unsurprisingly afraid, went out of the way of the approaching juggernauts lest they be stepped upon. Despite that, few braver fighters stayed; they are soon rewarded for their efforts with a sweeping smash of the monsters’ clubs. While Kyrie watches the villagers’ hopeless resistance, she’s caught unaware.  
  
“Hhmmph…” A powerful arm bound her hands together and the assailant also gagged her mouth with his other hand. At that moment, she thought that she’s a goner. Her body was shaking from fear but as she tried to struggle against her presumed captor, he whispered into her ear.  
  
“Shush. Calm yourself.”  
  
Only then that Kyrie realized that it’s Shinjou. Overjoyed, she hugged him tightly and asked with a tremulously brittle voice, “Bro… where’s ma… and pa? W-What’s… happening here?”  
  
Shinjou immediately pulled her down to kneel on the ground to avoid being spotted. “Calm down, Ky. Ma and pa are okay.”  
  
“B-but… t-those monsters! What are they?!” Kyrie said as she broke into sobbing from confusion, fatigue, and fright.  
  
Shinjou pulled her away instead of directly giving her a reply to avoid the nearing creatures. He ran with Kyrie in tow as her sister pulls back in objection.  
  
“Where’s ma and pa?! We’re not leaving them are we?! Shi-Shinjou! Let’s go back! Please! And you’re hurting me!” Despite her protests, they kept running with the moonlight as their only guide.  
  
“Shut up, Ky! Or you’re getting five across the face!” Shinjou fiercely shushed Kyrie, “You’re going to get us caught”. They went farther up into the mountains, in a trail which she recognizes to be going up into a shrine. She calmed down a little as her cries exhausted her. She’s deeply worried about her parents but Shinjou doesn’t seem to be bothered at all.  
  
After passing through the forest, they finally reached the gate of the shrine and only by then that Shinjou let go of his hold. Shinjou picked a piece of paper from one of his pockets; from his palm, he made it fly to the tablet marker atop the gate with a single blow. It’s a talisman with a symbol that looks like an eye and some inscriptions around it. Kyrie wondered for a moment how his brother did that but Shinjou grabbed her again by the arm to pass through the pathway, “There isn’t much time.”  
  
Shinjou lit some torches and the altar came into view, illuminating the stern countenance of a deity seated on a throne. It is Ilsaelle, or rather an effigy representing her, the Goddess of Divine Retribution; She Who Gives What is Due. It has been said that she holds a threshold for redemption and if a person crosses it, her Angels of Vengeance will be sent to tear him down. With such threshold being unknown, it’s been taught by the old sages to better to not tempt fate and avoid evil as much as possible. Kyrie knew her from all the tales that her parents taught her and when she was younger, she would ask herself every night if Ilsaelle is still pleased with her. As she grew older, she stopped worrying; she saw evil people get away with their deeds so she considered herself safe by comparison.  
  
The two siblings rested on opposite walls and after minutes of silence, Shinjou decided to break it, “How was school?”  
  
“Huh?” Kyrie replied with wide-eyed disbelief, “I don’t think this is the right time…”  
  
“I said,” Shinjou said with a higher, irritable tone but he immediately shifted back to a lower, kinder one, “How was school?” He smiled but Kyrie could tell that he forced it.  
  
Kyrie is puzzled with how Shinjou is behaving but she played along, “It’s fine, I guess.“  
  
“Have you learned anything new?”  
  
“Some. There were confusing things I’d like you to help me with.”  
  
“Count me out if its mathematics. I’m not too good with it.” Shinjou said with a chortle.  
  
Kyrie responded with half-hearted laughter but in truth, she is uncomfortable with it. She figured out what Shinjou is trying to do; he’s trying to make her feel better and distracting her from the trouble that they are into. It’s not helping and she thinks it’s more disheartening than endearing. Though she appreciates his effort, he is simply a bad liar.  
  
“Get it? Count? Mathematics?”  
  
Shinjou didn’t finish laughing at his own joke as his normal demeanor returned. He stood up and with a serious tone, he told Kyrie, “Stay here and don’t go out. Someone seems to have followed us.” He saw Kyrie’s worried look but he gave her a smile of assurance, “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He took a brush from the altar and walked towards the door. "And I almost forgot," Before exiting, he looked back at her. "Happy birthday, Ky."


	5. Guardian Angels in Plain Sight

“We can deny our angels exist, convince ourselves they can't be real. But they show up anyway, at strange places, and at strange times.”

 ― Sweet Pea, _Sucker Punch_  


 

“Cheap trick, too old-fashioned,” A lady noted as she and a cohort of her crystal berserkers, acolytes, and zealots have reached the shrine’s gate, noticing the paper tag that Shinjou has placed earlier, ”An incantation that is literally only good on paper”. Her minions tried to enter the gate, only to bump onto an invisible barrier but they repeatedly attempted. “You blockheads can’t do anything without me, can you? Get out of the way.” She retracted her crystalline fingernails and leaped onto the paper charm, tearing it to bits.  
  
Unobstructed, she entered the shrine’s yard and her crystalline soldiers marched behind. Just looking at it made her feel a feverish repugnance, a desire to get rid of it as soon as possible. “Yuck! This place reeks of human failure.” Her eyes lit yellow and her arms started glowing as well, with short crystals jutting out from her skin. “But there’s no filthy ground that a good sacred purging can’t clean.” She hurled the energy she has gathered towards the edifice and with a triumphant smile as she did so. With what she thought to be an assured completion of her task, she turned her back and tried to leave but the explosion that she was expecting didn’t happen.  
  
Her wave of energy was halted before it reached its target. “What?! But how?!”  
  
She soon saw who stopped her energy blast; a long-haired young man with arms spreading a giant scroll wide on both ends. He breathed deeply and folded the scroll, dispersing the blast safely. He pressed both ends of the folded scroll and it shrunk to fit his palm.  
  
Kyrie could not believe what she saw as she watched silently from a crevice. “Since when did Shinjou become a magician?” She finally understood what her brother meant by what he said earlier. Though now more confused with this shocking turn of events, seeing her brother with this side she hasn’t seen before alleviated her fear. Nonetheless, she’s still worried about Shinjou. The enemies are a few dozen strong.  
  
“You broke the paper tag?” Shinjou asked nonchalantly.  
  
The crystal berserkers raised their clubs preparing to attack but the lady raised her arm, telling them to stop. She snickered a little and asked, “Who are you, boy?”  
  
"Minokawa Shinjou,” He replied.  
  
“Minokawa? That’s not our family name…” Kyrie thought about it for a moment and dismissed that it’s just pretense on Shinjou’s part.  
  
“I knew several claimants to the Minokawa name and they were all impostors. Give me a good reason to be afraid of you.”  
  
“Because I’m a real one.” Shinjou took out a bottle containing a black liquid which he raised to his lips, imbibing its content. He took a brush out from his pants' pocket and with quick swings of his hands, he drew a symbol in front of him… suspended in the air. It expanded into a large seal with glyphic patterns. He ran into it and after passing through, his clothes transformed and markings appeared on his face.

  
Everything that is happening is too much for Kyrie. He recognized the bottle of ink; it was the one Shinjou confiscated a week ago and the glyphic patterns on the magical seal look like the blots accidentally formed on her room’s wall when she tainted it; which she now doubts if those were formed accidentally at all. She is sure that it is too vivid to be just her imagination.

With Shinjou’s transformation, his clothes became a white robe with loose sleeves and a tall hat twice the height of his head. His markings are fierce, with red curves and loops through his face and some that lined around his eyes. On his chest is a circular heraldry with a design that looks like a burning flower.

“Looks like a mere entertainer's trick to me but let's put that to a test, shall we?” The lady shrugged her shoulders. “Subdue him!” She commanded. Her minions rushed towards Shinjou; Zealots and Berserkers with their close combat weapons and acolytes throwing bolts of energy from their crystals.  
  
Shinjou is unfazed by their number. He brought his brush up in the air once more and written spiraling strokes. The ink suspended in the air became a strong gale and Shinjou directed it towards the attackers. They were sent flying and against those that are too heavy to be blown away, Shinjou followed it up with a strike of lightning by drawing a zigzag.  
  
“Root yourselves to the ground, you idiots!” They did as the lady instructed and sent crystals outward from under their feet to gain foothold. Those that can shoot bolts of energy resumed their offensive from where they’re grounded at. The rest tried to advance slowly by dragging their feet along the ground against the force of the airstream. Not long after, the blowing wind ceased and the zealots were able to rush towards him. They tried to stab Shinjou but he has drawn another seal under his feet, which he used to launch himself into the air with like a trampoline.

He drew some squiggly lines which turned into a rope, using it to latch towards the lady. “Hey!” The lady protested as Shinjou tied her arm. Shinjou held her by the neck with one arm while his other arm bound the lady’s arms together. However, the lady only shown minor signs of being annoyed instead of feeling threatened as she is held captive by Shinjou. “If you like to hold my hand, why not try buying me some flowers first?” 

“You wish!” Shinjou retorted. The lady saw an opportunity to throw Shinjou away, sending the young mage flying towards a large rock. Shinjou was about to hit it headfirst but he regained his balance and landed with his feet. 

“Obstinacy is hardly the way to a woman’s heart.” The lady added as her minions started chasing Shinjou again. 

“The only instance that I would like to find a way to your heart is when I have to carve it out of you.” Shinjou fought against the minions unlike the way he evaded them before. He took out paper tags from pouches within his sleeves and he sent them towards a group of the attacking minions. The paper tags exploded after five seconds, with the impact sending off sparks from the crystal monsters’ bodies. He cast the same lightning incantation he used a while ago to another group and the jumping spell he used to save himself to toss away an assaulting berserker. 

Seeing her minions’ failure, the lady dashed towards Shinjou. “Boy, are you corny.” She giggled and grabbed Shinjou by the neck, bringing his face next to hers. Baring her teeth, she tried to bite the hand that Shinjou is holding his brush with. He was able to pull his hand away just in time and he retaliated by downrocking and sweeping her feet off.

Shinjou leaped back at about the same time that the lady started firing crystal projectiles from her arms. Though he tried to evade, some of them grazed through his clothing. He rolled towards the middle of the yard, pausing to catch his breath. Few more crystals rained down from somewhere else other than from the lady and though they missed his flesh, the crystals pinned him down. He realized what might happen next. He took the opportunity while he's still free and cast a spell that sent a flare up the sky. It emitted rays of light around him which solidified into a glass-like barrier. He slammed his fist into it but it didn’t shatter. Using his brush, he drew runes but they all puffed kaput. Again and again he tried to break free but it was futile; neither his physical strength nor his magic works against it. The unseen reinforcements revealed themselves as they leaped off from tree branches.

“Shin-Shinjou… No...” Kyrie whispered. She watched helplessly as their enemies caught her brother. She began trembling; turning cold and pale from fear as they all surround him. Her breathing became heavier and shorter. Turning to the Goddess, Kyrie knelt and prayed. “Please help him. Please help my brother. I beg you. I’d do anything to save him.” Her eyes were welling with tears as she held the effigy’s hands.  
  
Meanwhile, the monsters surrounded Shinjou, each of them with their weapons raised up as they await orders from their lady. They made way for her as she approached and she gestured to them to standby at ease. She smiled proudly as she looked Shinjou in the eye, knocking soundly at the barrier as she did so to remind him of his predicament. “No more tricks up your sleeve?” She smiled slyly as she brought her face near, darting out her tongue and licking the encaging crystal. "What a letdown. For a while there I thought you'd put up a good fight. I guess you're an impostor after all."  
  
Shinjou responded by gazing at her loathingly… and spitting at the surface where she brought her face near. The lady backed away in revolt and thudded the crystal.  
  
“Filthy,” She stroke the cage and with her abilities, she forced it to manifest a single sharp spike that impaled Shinjou’s abdomen, just a few inches below the insignia. Black liquid squirted and poured from where it pierced and the same liquid bubbled in his mouth, spreading into his torn robe until it was thoroughly soaked with it.

  
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”  
  
“Who’s there?!” The lady faced the direction where the sound came from. The shrine’s door slowly creaked open, with its dim torches revealing a girl with a ponytailed hair holding a common rake in her hands.  
  
“Ky-Kyrie,” Shinjou muttered as blood drips from his mouth. He tried to draw with his brush but the symbols he wrote dispelled immediately as he is too weak to invoke them. “I told you to hide.”  
  
“LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!” Kyrie shouted as she charged into the fray, specifically towards the lady. The minions tried to get her off the lady but they were told to stay away.  
  
With a yawn, the lady halted Kyrie as she held the rake. She brought the rake up with Kyrie not letting go until their faces met at the same level. Kyrie stared at her angrily while she tilted her head a little and smiled at her cruelly. She looked at Shinjou, then at Kyrie, then back to Shinjou and said “You’re siblings? You don’t look too alike.” Then back at Kyrie, “You’re both imbeciles though.” The lady curled her free hand’s fingers into her palm and retracted three short crystals into her knuckles. She punched Kyrie in the gut and threw the rake with her towards a tree. The lady wiped Kyrie’s blood off with her skirt and looked at Shinjou.  
  
“You… y-you monster!”  
  
“Oh, shut up.” She looked back at Kyrie and she saw the latter trying to rise. Annoyed, she ran towards her and held her by the neck. She threw her towards another tree. Once more, Kyrie fell at its roots shaking and holding her abdomen in pain. As she tried to stand up again, the lady followed and kicked her, then stepped at her legs. Kyrie let out a loud scream and squirmed, coughing out blood. Nevertheless, she resisted the pain and shut her mouth.  
  
“This cannot be!” The lady lost her composure. In contrast with her earlier calmness, she became visibly upset. Her eyes were glaring with xanthous light and her voice turned from husky to strident. “You’re supposed to be dead by now!” She stomped on her leg again… to which Kyrie responded by grabbing a chipped-off cobblestone and hitting the lady’s feet with it. Enraged, the lady kicked Kyrie away towards the shrine.  
  
Her ponytail has been undone and her hair covered her face. Kyrie knelt and trembled again with her head bowed, seemingly wheezing with exhaustion. But she began grunting heavily and she slowly raised her head up; her hair slipped away to reveal her wounded visage. It was contorted with rage; She was gnashing her teeth and her eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed the rake again and blood from her arms’ wounds dripped and flown into the entire object’s length.


	6. Rise, Young Warrioress! Kyrie’s Potential (W.I.P.)

"Come not between the dragon and his wrath."  
 ― William Shakespeare, _King Lear_

 

“That should take care of it.” The lady said as she turned her back again.

Suddenly, small pieces of broken wood and stones whooshed past her neck and cheek, evading beforehand as she sensed it ripple in the wind. Soon immediately, a rake came flying next. She deflected it but it was followed through and clutched by a blurred silhouette of an arm. It bashed her with the rake and she defended by crossing her arms together. “What the…”

“Do you like hurting people..?” Kyrie asked in a calm voice dissonant with her contorted facial expression. The lady tried to push away but Kyrie didn’t even budge.

“What are you?! Get off me, you brawny wench!” The lady leaped about ten meters above the ground and manifested a crystal lance on her left arm.

The minions stood as they watched the duel and unbeknown to them, a pair has sneaked up behind and broke Shinjou’s cage. They are a man and a woman with clothes similar to Shinjou’s but decorated with colorful patterns and sashes. The minions looked behind, realizing what was going on but alas, they have already set him free.

“Don’t just stand there! Do not allow our prisoner to escape!” The lady said while being locked in the duel with Kyrie. They stampeded towards the rescuers but the woman of the pair blocked their charge.

“Shinrai! Take our son to safety.” The woman instructed as she revealed a brush and wrote symbols in the air.

“Understood, my dear.” Shinrai replied.  “But Tetom, take care of yourself.”

“No worries here.” The wind began to blow stronger and gray smoke gathered around the spot, confusing the monsters. Tetom followed it up by blasting them with chains of lightning.

Meanwhile, Shinrai tended to their son. It almost broke his heart to see Shinjou’s fatal-looking injuries but he tried his best to hide it. “What happened, son?”

“I overestimated myself. Sorry, pa. I think I’m going stale without a lot of practice.” Shinjou said as his father examined his wounds. Shinrai then took his own brush and swept his son’s wounds with it. Slowly, Shinjou’s wounds began to close.

“Good work stalling them. I’ll give you that. Any later for us to come and you would have been killed though. ”  
  
“I just took your command. I want to help you fulfill the promise, to protect her, for her m--”  
  
“I get that. For now, rest and leave this to us.”  
  
“Okay,” Shinjou paused and winced, “Take care.”  
  
Meanwhile, the duel between Kyrie and the crystal lady rages on as Tetom’s smokescreen spread to the rest of the shrine grounds.  
  
“Die, you whelp!” The lady screamed as she charged towards what she thought was Kyrie’s silhouette. She strikes. Then it’s gone. The figure faded away abruptly as it mixed with the smoke. About to turn around, a sudden blow to the waist caught her off guard. She motioned to defend herself but several other blows connected before she finally was able to leap to a higher ground, the shrine’s thatched roof.  
  
 _How?! How can she fight me evenly?!_ The young girl’s prowess left her truly confused. She can feel her knees’ weakening as her bewilderment at her opponent’s resilience was slowly turning into fear. “I’m no mere being! I’m a servant of the Maestreya!” She shouted as she welcomed Kyrie’s assault.  
  
“Could it be?” Tetom asked aloud as she concentrates on sending shockwaves of energy against a row of crystalline warriors. She sent dirt and gravel around them and with a stroke mashed them into a pile.  
  
“Seems like it. Despite our awareness of this happening someday, it’s still astonishing.” Shinrai responded as he held back his own set of monsters. “The initial outburst from awakening a Rikuryn’s true potential; it’s as if one has disturbed a sleeping dragon.”  
  
They have felled several monsters but they noticed that living ones seem to be able to absorb parts of their living comrades but of varying levels of success.  
  
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Her enchantment against the clumped monsters didn’t last long and they resumed their attack after breaking away. She leaped back and her husband followed. “Meanwhile on our case, these guys aren’t this strong before.”  
  
“She’s putting up a good match, looks like it. Also I’m positive that we can finish them. I think that we should kill them all at once so that none of them would be able to pick up the dead one’s body parts.”  
  
Tetom looked at him questioningly while he oafishly grinned back, “That sounds easier than done.” Then she smiled and said, “But I guess this is one of the reasons why I married you.”  
  
“I will not lose to you, you hear that!” The crystal lady growled as their weapons clashed, Kyrie with a rake and the lady with her arm-spikes.  
  
“You talk too much.” Kyrie quipped.


End file.
